


Day 26. Angular

by Munnin



Series: Fictober [26]
Category: Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Suicide Notes, confrontation with abuser, contemplations on suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 09:42:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16406009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Munnin/pseuds/Munnin
Summary: Swan tries to act on his discovery, but will he be quick enough to save a life.





	Day 26. Angular

**Author's Note:**

> If you’re just joining in, I urge you to read the [whole series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1145777) from the beginning. It won't make any sense otherwise.

The hearing was already in session by the time Swan reached the Senatorial Complex. It was a maze of rooms and corridors each with its own rules and level of clearance. None of which Swan had. He was a freelancer with clearance of one job only.

Having been pushed out and told off by Senate Security, Swan paced the public area of the foyer, typing swiftly at his wrist pad. He could slice the system but it would take time, and time was the one thing he didn’t have. 

As he typed, his deck sent out auto-calls to every trooper and Jedi whose holo-net contact he had access to. 

It was one of the Red Mist troopers who answered first. Not that Swan knew which was which other than Fordo. “What do you want? And how did you get access to this line?”

“No time. Sending co-ordinates. Get Fordo here now. It’s an emergency.”

For once, Rezz didn’t argue, just passed the message on. 

Fordo was smart enough not to run into the foyer of the Senate Complex fully armed and armoured. How not to start a riot! Instead he strode purposefully towards Swan, helmet tucked under his arm. “Swan, what’s the meaning of this?”

“Savric Ishsha is going to die,” Swan answered, his narrow chest heaving. “You have to get to him. Now!”

Fordo searched Swan’s flushed face and nodded, calling for General Kenobi as he marched Swan towards the secure entrance. His clearance would only get him so far. After that, they needed a Jedi. 

Obi-Wan met them halfway to the hearing chambers. “Are you sure about this?” he asked Swan. “I’m going to need proof if I’m going to barge into a senatorial hearing.”

“I’m sure,” Swan stressed. “I can’t explain it to you now. I just know. He’s going to die. We have to stop it.”

The hallway outside was thick with aids, assistants, and personal security. People who might be needed but weren’t important enough to be inside the actual room. 

The door opened before they could clear the crowd enough to reach it and Savric Ishsha stepped out, pale and drawn. 

Sav looked up, caught Swan’s eye with a smile. His lips parted as if to speak, recognising the slicer he’d never met in person.

As Savric came towards Swan, a tall Iktotchi stepped up behind Sav and Swan screamed a warning. 

But too late. 

Fordo grabbed Swan and twisted him away, taking the blaster shot that ripped through Savric’s body as a glancing blow off his armour. 

Obi-Wan’s sabre ignited, the sound lost in the screaming as senators and aids scattered for cover. 

The Iktotchi put up a fight but it didn’t last long. Between Fordo and Obi-Wan they disarmed him and pinned him against the wall before Senate Security arrived. 

“Who sent you? Who!” Obi-Wan demanded.

The Iktotchi just laughed and looked over at Swan, still crumpled on the floor where Fordo had knocked him. “I’ll be seeing you later.” 

As Senate security cuffed the assassin, Fordo crossed to help Swan up. There was a splash of Savric’s blood on Swan’s angular cheekbone. Stark red on blue.

*** 

Back in Senator Amidala’s state rooms, someone pressed a cup of caf into Swan’s hand and he sipped it mechanically. 

“How did you know Savric was in danger?” Padmé asked softly, sitting down next to him. 

Swan didn’t answer at once, concentrating just on keeping the caf down. “He told me. His last message.”

“That he was going to be assassinated?” Anakin demanded, pacing the room. He’d arrived after the alarm had been raised, after it was all over. But the fact that Padmé had been a few steps behind Ishsha when the shot was fired made his blood boil. He was ready to tear the Iktotchi apart with his bare hands. “Did he tell you who threatened him? Was it Dooku?”

Swan shook his head and put the caf down. Pressing a button on his wrist-pad, soft music filled the room. It was complex and sad, but somehow proud too. It carried a resigned finality even to the uneducated ear. 

Anakin shook his head. “I don’t get it.”

“It’s an epitaphian tone poem,” Obi-Wan said slowly, leaning against the wall and stroking his beard. “I studied them as a padawan. The style dates back to before the Sith Wars. I didn’t know the writing of them was still practiced.”

“It is.” Swan nodded. “In certain circles. I… recognised the structure.” 

Anakin looked from Obi-Wan to Swan and back again, still confused. 

Padmé stood up and straighten her dress. It too had blood stains from where she’d knelt to check for a pulse. A futile hope given the hole in Savric’s chest. “It’s a suicide note in musical form. He knew they were coming for him. He’d accepted his death.” She unpinned her head-dress and dropped it on the table, shaking her hair out tiredly. “That’s why he asked me to distance myself from him. He was trying to protect me.”

Obi-Wan pushed himself off the wall to address Swan. “You know the assassin? You recognised him.” He was careful to ask it gently. The slicer seemed shaken and scattered. 

“Atar.” The word came out broken, Swan’s voice shaking.

“Ah.” Fordo felt the last piece of the puzzled fall into place. No wonder Swan had screamed. 

“Captain Fordo?” Obi-Wan had clearly forgotten Fordo was present till that moment. “You know something about this assassin?”

Fordo stared straight ahead, not looking at Swan. “Only the basics, sir. He’s a mercenary. The fixer we used to contact Mr Le used to be on this Atar’s crew. As was Swan. They- parted company badly.”

Padmé saw how this line of questions was affecting Swan. “Perhaps this is a discussion for another-”

“No,” Anakin cut in harshly. “We need to know if this Atar’s a Separatist agent. He infiltrated the Senate Complex. We need to know if he had inside help, from an old crewmate perhaps?” He loomed over Swan, the slicer very near to hyperventilating. 

“Sir.” Fordo stepped in, placing himself between the Jedi and Swan. “Swan Le was fully vetted on this project. I can vouch for him.” 

Any other clone might have backed down under General Skywalker’s glare but Fordo was an ARC trooper. And he knew he was right. General Skywalker hadn’t been there. He hadn’t seen the look on Swan’s face when confronted by his abuser. 

Obi-Wan lifted a hand to calm the situation. “We have the assassin in custody. There’s time to interrogate him about his political allegiances later.”

“He has none.” Swan forced himself to breathe, to answer. “He takes jobs that pay. That’s all.”

Fordo looked down at the delicate little slicer. “You didn’t know Atar was the assassin.” It wasn’t a question. Fordo doubted Swan would have run into danger like that if he’d know who was waiting.

“I didn’t know if someone was going to assassinate the composer,” Swan went on shakily. “Or if he was going to take his own life. I just knew he was going to die. And I didn’t want him to.” 

Padmé sat down next to Swan, a gentle hand on his arm. “I didn’t know the two of you had met.” 

“We hadn’t.” He looked up at her with wide dark eyes, his elfin face still smeared with blood. “But we shared a language. He sent me his tone poem.” 

The implication might have been lost on Padmé but Obi-Wan understood. It was a sign of profound connection. 

“You should return to your lodging, Swan.” Obi-Wan said softly. “We may have some questions for you later but I think it’s best you get some rest. Captain, will you make sure he gets home safely?”

Fordo nodded and offered Swan a hand up. 

Swan shook his head and stood on his own, walking out of the room without looking back. 

***

They didn’t speak till they reached the door of Swan’s apartment. 

Fordo watched Swan enter the keycode like a sleepwalker. “You won’t wait for their questions, will you? You’ll disappear as soon as I turn my back.”

Swan huffed a bitter laugh. “How did you know?”

“Just a guess.” Fordo shook his head. “Atar knows where you are.” 

Swan nodded slowly, opening the door to the apartment but hadn’t yet stepping inside. “Will you look for me?”

“If I’m ordered to.” Fordo admitted with a shrug. “But I’m going to bet you’re better at vanishing than I am at tracking.”

Swan smiled tightly. “That's yet to be seen.”

“Can I ask you something?” Fordo hesitated but he felt like he needed to hear the answer. “The tone poem. You recognised the style because you've written one, haven't you?”

Swan leant against the doorway, arms crossed to hug himself as he nodded. 

“Because of what Atar did to you?”

Again, Swan answered with a small nod. 

“But you're still here.”

“I wrote it,” Swan said softly after a moment's deliberation. “But I never performed it. Or shared it. I keep it, up here.” He tapped his temple. “In case I need it one day.”

“Then every day you keep it is a victory over him.”

Swan looked up at Fordo with a startled appreciation. “I don’t know how to thank you.” It wasn’t a platitude but a statement of fact. Swan didn’t know how to thank Fordo, he didn’t have the language for it. 

“You don’t. You go on with your life and I go on with mine. No debts.” 

“No debts.” Swan echoed and slipped inside, closing the door behind him. 

His duty discharged, Fordo headed back to the barracks to write up his report.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Josh for the editing and Jess for teaching me more about proper punctuation.


End file.
